Protecting the Mistress (27&28/31) (FemDom, Romance)

Gerald came home from work early.  It had been a week and a
half since the last Congregation, and he'd been damn glad to
get out of the house and back to the office.  Mary as Mistress
was a very formidable person used to getting her own way. 
Mary as Nurse was even more determined to get her own way, and
she was just so . . . so nice about it.  A sweet smiling,
ruthlessly-committed-to-getting-someone-well-or-else Domina
can be a very scary experience.  Still, he'd had no choice but
to lie there and take it.  He'd been in no real condition to
go to work until Friday.

Fortunately, the Doctor's note to his Human Resource
Department had cleared the way for him to stay home most of
that week - at least until he could sit for extended periods
of time without too much discomfort.  Oddly enough, it had
been the lingering diaper rash that had kept him down the
longest.  Sitting down on those itching, irritated tissues had
nearly driven him nuts until the creams and ointments had
finally soothed him.

He was mostly all healed now, at least physically.  It wasn't
hard to heal when all you did was rest.  If Mary had given him
a single order other than 'go to bed' or 'eat your dinner' or
worst of all, 'take your medicine' in the past ten days,
Gerald couldn't remember it.  Helluva way to run a slavery.

"Hello, Gerry," her voice surprised him.  "You are home
early."

"Mistress?!?  I didn't expect to see you here," he replied,
feeling somewhat inane. "What are you doing here?" he blurted
out.

She smiled at that.  "I was just asking myself the same thing
about you.  I was planning on doing this later, but we might
as well do it now as later.  Would you please join me in the
den?"

Again a request, not an order.  "Of course, Mistress."

Another sad smile. "Thank you," was all she said.

Inside the den, she again gestured him into his favorite chair
and took a seat on the sofa opposite him.

"Is this another time out, Mistress?" Gerald asked, trying to
figure out what the hell was going on.

"You might say that," she said, reaching over to the end table
to pick up a manilla folder.  "Gerry, the reason I came home
early . . .  " Her voice suddenly broke on a sob that she
tried to stifle and did not quite succeed.  "Home," she
repeated, almost to herself, "I said I came home.  Not 'to
your house', but to *Home*."  She batted her hand at a tear
from her eye.  "Such a short time and your house has already
become 'home'."

"I want you to think of it as home, Mary.  All along I've
wanted to give it to you." 

"I know, but after that damned night with Richard, you are
still afraid that you might hurt me, afraid that I might fear
you."  She just shook her head.  "Anyway, as I was saying, I
came home to pack my things."  Her hands flexed on the folder.

"But you can't leave here.  The contract says we have to live
24/7 until after the third congregation.  We can't do that
unless we are living together.  Unless you mean for us to move
into your apartment?"

"You mean this contract, Gerry?" she offered him the file
folder.  "And no, I don't propose that *we* move into my
apartment.  What I propose to do is rip that contract to
shreds and get on with our lives."

Fear cut across Gerald's soul.  "But . . .  but why?  We're so
close.  Only one more of those things and you are home-free -
back in the good graces of the Cabal.  Why are you quitting
now?"

Tears began to flow faster.  "How can you even ask that?  Lord
above, Gerry, how can you even consider continuing this?  Why
aren't you demanding that we quit while you are ahead? How
could you think of going back to the Lodge?  After what that
bitch did to you?  How can you think of trusting me any more
after what they did to you . . . after what I let them do to
you?"

Gerald was off his seat and kneeling before her.  "We've
already discussed this, but let's go over it just one more
time.  Did you know what she was going to do?  Did you ever
dream a Cabal Domme would do something like that?"  

"No! Of course not.  That is not what the Cabal is all about!"
Mary snapped, sounding almost offended for the Cabal if not
herself.

"I did wonder about that." Gerald murmured, almost to himself. 
"Anyway, does whatever it is you have planned for the next
time, involve letting someone else have at me without you
around to see to my protection and safety?" 

"No." Mary replied flatly, her head shaking to emphasize her
negative response.

"Do you intend to ignore or prevent the use of my safe word? 
No! Don't even bother answering that - you would never do
anything like that."

Now he did take the file folder, opening it to look at the
document contained within.  "I have a lot of reasons for
finishing what we started when we signed this thing.  First of
all, I gave *you* my word on this.  What is more important, I
gave my word to *us*," he said pointing to the boldly scrawled
signature on the bottom of the page. "Second, I am not going
to let that bitch win, and that is precisely what I would be
doing if I don't go back and finish this thing we started. 
Third, I have never *not* trusted you and I have no reason to
stop."

Gerald handed the folder back to her.  "You . . .  you are
really sure?  You really want me to go through with this?" 
She whispered, her eyes wide with hope.

"Last time I checked, Mary, it wasn't only my signature on the
bottom of that page.  I'm not the only one who made promises
to us."

"Is . . .  Is that the only reason?" she asked softly, a
slight hiccup in her voice.

Slowly, Gerald stood up to his full height and pulled Mary up
into his arms.  His eyes were blazing and she could feel the
tightly reined emotion inside him.  "That damned contract was
never my motivation in all this and you damn well ought to
know better.  I love you. That was my only reason for ever
embarking on this little journey of discovery.  And because I
love you, we're going to finish this thing, once and for all."

Mary clung to him with all her surprising strength.  "And
then?  After that last demonstration scene?  What then,
Gerry?"

"I don't know, Mary.  Maybe I will be able to believe in
myself again, trust myself again enough. One thing about that
Freda messes, I feel better about myself.  I figure if I can
handle that, I can probably handle anything, but for now, we
need to go on and see this thing through."

Mary sniffled again.  "Okay.  I can do that.  Gerry?"

"Yes, Mary?"

"Earlier you said you wondered about something.  What was
that?"

Gerry considered whether or not to answer or not and shrugged. 
"You said what happened is not what the Cabal was all about. 
I mean, with the exception of the red-haired amazon and her
feathers, none of what you've had me do or have done to me has
had much to do with being or feeling sexy.  I guess I just
figured that the Cabal rules don't apply to me until we finish
this."

"The rules do apply, Gerry, but the members are concerned
about safety, so they are stretching the rules in this case."

"They still want to know if I will snap again and take some
Domme's head off the hard way."

"That's it, Gerry, but I know you won't.  For what it is
worth, Gerry, I have done each of those scenes before at the
Lodge. I accept those two experiences were not sexy or
pleasurable for you, but you must trust me when I tell you
that there are many submissives who would be rock hard and
dripping the entire time, and who would rush off to relieve
themselves the moment they were released."

Gerald just looked at her quizzically for several moments and
then shook his head.  "Maybe the first scene.  That was
starting to feel okay until the very end, but that baby thing? 
Even if it had been done according to your plan?  I just don't
get it.  I understand doing it, but I would be doing it for
you.  Beyond pleasing you, none of that would do anything for
me."

"I know, dear, and I promise you that nothing like that will
ever happen to you again in my keeping once this mess is over
and done with." Mary whispered, stroking his back as she
hugged him.  "Gerry?" she asked again softly.

"Yes, Mary?"

"Would you sleep with me tonight?  Just sleep?  And maybe hold
me?  Can we just forget everything else and just be two people
in love?"  Gerald could hear the incipient sobs in her voice. 
"Then, maybe I can worry about going back to being Mistress
again tomorrow. Oh god, Gerry, I thought I had lost you!"

"I'm still here, love, and there is nothing that I would
rather do than sleep with you in my arms."

Part 28: The New Beginning

Gerald pulled the big four wheel drive vehicle into his
driveway, still bemused by the phone call he'd received just
before the end of the work day.

"Gerry?  This is Mistress Mary," she'd begun before he'd even
gotten out a greeting of his own.  That she'd called him at
the office at all had really caught his attention.  He'd known
she must have been calling from her office and since she
wasn't "out" there to any of her co-workers any more than
Gerald was at his place of business, she had taken a risk to
call him and refer to herself that way.

A quick glance had assured him that his office was devoid of
listening ears. "Good afternoon, Mistress. How may I serve
you?" Mary was still a little sensitive to "Yes, Mistress" and
he'd learned other ways of responding in the affirmative to
his Mistress. Some of them, he thought rubbing his still
slightly tender butt, had been learned a little harder than
others.

"Do you have any work that you absolutely must bring home
tonight?  If you can put off whatever it is that you had
planned for tonight, I will give you a free night tomorrow
evening, but I really would like your undivided attention this
evening."

Gerald had scanned the stack of files he had planned on taking
home with him to work on after dinner.  He'd been trying to
get a little ahead because there were only three more days
until the last mandatory congregation demonstration. Still,
he'd reassured himself, there wasn't anything all that
pressing and with the extra time the following evening, he'd
be just fine.  "I am at your command, Mistress."

"Excellent," she purred huskily.  "I want you to drive
directly home and dress in the outfit I have laid out for you
in your bedroom. Close your bedroom door and do not come out
until I call for you.  Got that, Gerry-boy?"

"As you command, Mistress."

"Well, gee, Gerry, aren't you at least going to try a little
wheedling?" she pouted, "Aren't you at all curious about what
I have planned for you tonight?"  The whiskey-smooth voice
went in his ear and straight to Gerry's groin, making him
shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, Mistress.  I will wait and be surprised."

"Oh, I think you will be, lover.  I really do think you will
be.  Ta, darling.  Be a good boy."  And then she'd hung up.

He pulled up to the house and parked behind Mary's car.  She'd
beaten him home, as usual.  Although he hadn't made the faux
pas of trying to find out what she wanted of him, he was still
curious as to what she'd had up her sleeve.

Things had been on a steady upswing since her abortive attempt
to move out.  He'd even found himself feeling steadily better
about himself day by day.  He had started to understand just
how strong he was, and how much he really loved Mary Johnson
in all her many guises. 

Over the past weeks, he'd begun to put the two Congregation
contract scenes and the scene in which he'd lost control into
a new and different context.  Whatever had set him off that
night could not possibly have been worse than what he endured
those two trial-by-fire weekends at the Lodge.

And he hadn't snapped.  Oh, he might have, hell, he most
definitely would have enjoyed getting his hands on the bitch
Freda, but there was nothing of that "being-out-of-control-in-
a-blind-rage" feeling toward her.  No, this hatred was of the
clear headed type. When it finally happened, that little
confrontation would be a coldly rational, clearly thought out
assassination.  

But truth to tell, Freda did not seem to matter all that much
anymore.  It was just too bad that she couldn't go through the
hell his Mary had to go through to stay in the Cabal. But his
Mary was honest and she had taken responsibility (albeit more
than her fair share in his not so humble opinion) for what
happened while Freda continued to deny any wrong doing in her
behavior toward him.

Even their evening training sessions were starting to feel
like their old play scenes again.  Not that Mistress Mary was
taking it easy on him, he mused as he again felt the last
embers of the fire she'd lit in his rear last night.  And they
certainly were not all fun and games.  One evening, she'd put
him back in that damnably constricting serving wench outfit
and had put him through a very demanding, carefully
orchestrated period of servitude.  She'd even brought the Lady
Gemma in to help with that training. He'd walked pretty
carefully for a couple of days after that - the heels were
murder on his ankles and insteps - but he'd gotten through it. 

They'd even hit him with a variation of the pudding scene
(after he'd provided the sauce without having been given
permission to climax) and he'd gotten past that, too.
Confronting that demon had felt very, very good.  Defeating
it, as he had with Mistress Mary's guidance and the Lady
Gemma's help that night, had felt even better.

As he made his way up the stairs, he heard the shower running
in the Mistress Bedroom, and wished he was still serving as
Mary's combination body slave and lady's maid.  Giving
Mistress a bath and a shampoo were about as much fun as a man
could have without actually making love.  

Gerald wondered what Mary had laid out for him.  The last time
she'd pulled this stunt, it had been a full-body leather
harness consisting of about fifty buckling straps that went
around the body, the arms, the legs, the neck.  That had been
such a bear to get into that he'd been late for the start of
his training session with Mistress.  Of course, she quickly
got to the "seat" of that problem which made sitting down at
his desk the next day rather. . . . stimulating.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and swung open his
door.  When he opened them to see his mandated attire, his
mouth fell open in utter shock.

~--------------~

He'd just finished getting ready for her when an imperious
knock sounded from his door.  If he'd been surprised by what
had awaited him earlier on the bedroom side of this door, he
was almost floored by what he saw on the other side now.

Mary was wearing a jewel bright blue, off-the-shoulder evening
gown cut to show off her shapely bosom.  One side of the dress
was slit almost to her hip.  Gerald could see this because she
was standing with most of that leg, sheathed in faultless
black silk, was outside the slit.

"Mistress?" He asked in an awed whisper.

She smiled broadly, pleasure lighting up her deep, dark eyes.
"You don't look so bad yourself, darling.  I do so adore a man
who wears a tuxedo well.  You may consider that bow tie your
collar for the night, Gerry."

The tux fit him as though it had been made for him.  "Are we
going somewhere, Mistress?" he asked, still staring at her
reverently. 

"Yes, we are.  *You* are taking me on a date.  Come along.  We
don't want to be late."

They were soon heading back into the city in his car.  "Where
to, Mistress?" Gerald asked as he accelerated onto the
interstate highway.

"I guess it is safe to tell you now.  You are taking me to a
late supper, darling. *After* we take in the performance of
"Carmen" at the Music Hall."

"Carmen, Mistress?" Gerald asked uncertainly.  "Isn't that an 
. . . "

"Opera?" she asked with a sly grin.  "It certainly is,
darling, and *no*, you may *not* safe word.  You are just
going to have to stick it out for a couple of hours, tough
guy."  At his hangdog look, Mary burst out laughing.  "Its
only music, silly, and besides, any man who can stand up to
what Freda did to you doesn't have anything to fear from some
coloratura soprano."

"Yes, Mistress," he replied deadpan.

Mary's eyes narrowed.  "I was going to let you pick the
restaurant, slave.  One more "yes, Mistress", in that patently
obsequious tone tonight and we are eating sushi.  Got it?"

Gerald hated *cooked* fish, so the very thought of raw fish,
regardless of who thought it was such a delicacy, made his
stomach turn.  "Got it, Mistress," he said in a too-bright
voice and both of them dissolved into delighted laughter.

~--------------~

Actually, Gerald thought afterwards, Carmen wasn't all that
bad.  A couple of the soprano high notes still reminded him of
fingernails on a chalk board or the time Mary Lou sat down on
a thumbtack in Algebra class, but other than that, it was
okay.  The women had even been pretty cute, it seemed to him
that Carmen herself was quite the Domme, too.  Gerry had
momentarily thought about finding out how Mary would take to
being called Mistress Carmen, but self preservation won out.

No, the opera had not been all the terrible.  He could handle
it again, too - in a few months anyway. In truth, he would and
had dared far worse things to put a smile like that on Mary's
face. 

True to her word, she let Gerald pick where they ate.  They
were a bit overdressed for the cozy little family-owned
Italian ristorante, but the food was great, and the company
even better.

Gerald felt more at peace with the world and himself this
night than any time in almost half a year.  They were having
fun together, he realized, like they had before . . .

He thought about that some more - when had they last simply
had fun together without the trappings of the Mistress -
submissive relationship? Just a simple date between two people
in love? Certainly not since they'd signed the contract, and
there had not been a hell of a lot of fun in either of their
lives during their three-month estrangement, a very long time,
he realized.   Somewhere along the line, he'd just forgotten
how to simply have fun.  Even before the incident, he'd been
started down that dull, dark road.  

No more, he promised himself.  It was just like Mary said.  If
he could keep control after what that bitch Freda did to him,
he could handle anything and not pose a danger to his or
Mary's safety.

Mary licked her last spoonful of the decadently rich homemade
spumoni ice cream and then groaned.  "I will need my girdle
just to get into my work clothes tomorrow.  And we will have
to be very careful lacing up my corset for a few days, slave,"
she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Well, I could get you up and take you running with me,
Mistress," he teased, knowing that if there was anything in
the whole world Mary hated more than getting up early, it was
running.

Mary waggled a warning finger at him.  "None of that, Mister,"
she growled.  "There is only one sadist in this family and
that's me."

Each of them blanched momentarily as they realized what she'd
said, and became immediately solemn.  Finally, Mary broke the
silence.  "I'm sorry, Gerry.  I . . .it was a slip of the
tongue.  Please don't take that wrong," her face vivid with
her embarrassment.  Would he bolt now?, she wondered.  How
would she stop him if he tried?  Oh why couldn't she have kept
her big mouth shut?

He reached out with his right hand to take her left hand,
turning it palm up.  With infinite delicacy and care, he ran
the index finger of his left hand up and down her bare ring
finger.  "Don't be sorry," he said warmly.  "You were
absolutely right.  We are a family.  It doesn't take a
ceremony or a ring or some official looking piece of paper to
make that true.  It takes two people, bound by love to start a
family."

"Oh, god, Gerry." Mary cried, tears streaming down her smiling
face as her free hand reached over to close over his.  "Do you
mean that??"

"With all my heart.  That night . . . well, the night I . . .
the night Richard joined us," he finally got out.  "I had a
ring in my trousers pocket, for after the scene.  I wish I had
it with me now.  I don't, but I'm still going to ask you,
anyway.  Mary Johnson, would you please marry me?  Be my wife,
lover, Mistress and the Mother of our children?  Will you love
me and guide me, train me and test me for the rest of time,
forever and ever, Amen?"

"I *still* want the ring, Gerry," she demanded cheekily, and
then something else occurred to her.  Her eyes glinted with
pure happiness and her lips turned into that wonderful 'I've-
got-you-just-where-I-want-you-now' grin of hers.  "And I want
you to let our special friends call you Gerry.  'Gerald'
intimidates people."

"You'll get the ring, I promise, just as soon as we get home."

"And what about Gerry?"

All he could do was smile.  "How do you do, Ma'am.  My name is
Gerry Harris, and I would like to spend the rest of my life
loving you and taking care of you."

"Pleased to meet you, Gerry Harris, and Yes, thank you." Mary
responded with all the dignity and hauteur of a Grand Dame. "I
will marry you."  Then her face flashed into that elfin grin
of pure mischief. "God help you, Gerry.  Now you truly belong
to me."